Avengers: 5 and 1- Steve Deals with his Team
by Kateri3740
Summary: Steve loves his teammates, he really does, but sometimes they can drive him crazy. Especially when they can't follow The Rules. Or five times Steve has a... Discussion with his teammates, and one time someone has a Discussion with him. Warning- Contains spanking.
1. Chapter 1: Tony

**Chapter 1: Tony**

"Tony?"

Ah crap. It's Cap. How long have I been down here again? It doesn't seem like _that_ long ago JARVIS was telling me to go grab something to eat…

"Tony."

…buuuuut if Cap is here, it must have been longer than I thought.

I turn to him, a big smile on my face, and do my best to hide how the quick turn is making my head spin and eyes see dots.

"Heeeeyyy, Steve! What's it going?"

He merely folds his arms over his chest, raising a brow.

Not good.

"Do you know how long you have been down here, Tony?"

I adopt my best wheedling smile.

"Uh… too long?"

His eyes narrow.

"Almost 68 hours."

I wince. Uh, wow that was… a lot longer than I thought.

"Oh. Umm…"

His eyes narrow even further while he tightens his stance, showing his displeasure as he waits for a response.

This is not good. While the team has some patience for my inability to sleep and crazy rushes of inspiration, it was a Rule that we all at least try to rest in a bed, or equivalent depending on circumstances, after 40 hours. Even if we couldn't sleep, we had to lay down with the lights off and at least try to rest. Barring emergencies- Cap's definition of the term, not mine.

Seeing that I had no response, he continues. "And in that duration, do you know how many times someone has asked you to come eat something?"

My face contorts into yet another wince. This is _definitely_ not good. I vaguely remember a couple of people asking me to eat something, but with Pepper on her business trip and this new problem that just arose with the secure communications devices the team used...I barely even registered the presence of anyone else, much less what they said. Steve doesn't wait for me to respond this time, knowing that I don't have an answer.

"_Twelve_, Tony. And you didn't respond to any of them."

I bite my lip, knowing I am on very shaky ground right now, and rub my hand through my hair, and try to sound apologetic.

It works... sometimes?

"Uh, sorry Cap. I guess I just got caught up in this, it's a communication issue, and…"

"Anthony." Ah _crap_. Full name was _not_ good. "Come here."

Aaannnnddd that was it. I knew what he had planned to do.

"Uhhh…no?"

I blink. I did _not_ just say that.

By the disbelieving eyebrow and darkening glare on Caps face, I did.

"_Now_."

I let out a petulant huff at the involuntary step forward my body takes.

Well. No disobeying _that_ tone.

I scowl and resign myself to my fate.

I approach him slowly, full on sulking. He stands steady, still in his crossed arm position, until I am right in front of him. He looks at me for a second, before quicker than you can blink and more gently than you can imagine grabs my arm, pulls me to his side, bends me over, moving his hand from my arm to hold me with my back, and delivers 3 blistering swats.

"AHHH! _Caaaaaap_!"

I wince. That sounded suspiciously like a whine.

"You know the rules Tony."

His voice is unwavering as he lays down two more strong smacks.

I hiss.

"Even if you can't sleep, you have to rest."

Two more, and I whimper.

"Going that long without eating is also unacceptable." Before I can protest, he lays down an additional three which illicit a yelp. "Regardless of how much you have had to drink, which, knowing you, has been mostly energy drinks anyway."

His voice is scolding as he finishes, laying down a final five swats, the sting causing tears to come to my eyes. Darn super-soldier serum.

He slowly pulls me up, keeping a calm yet restraining hand on my arm to keep me from pulling away.

I sniffle, but meet his serious gaze as I know is expected.

"You have to keep yourself healthy, Tony."

I wince, and then abashedly go to rub my stinging rear.

"I got you, Cap."

Steve's serious face holds my gaze for a moment longer before he relaxes, and puts an arm on my shoulder, squeezing gently, his face compassionate.

"Nightmares?"

I bit my lip and instantly look away. I thought I had them under control, but since Pepper left…

"You could have come to us, Tony." His voice is a mixture of sad, gentle and scolding.

I knew I could. But I didn't want them to see me like that. It… it got bad, sometimes. I didn't want them to know.

Steve sighs.

"Alright, we will talk more about this later." I groan, just imagining the _emotions_ that I will be forced to discuss. "For now, you are going to go upstairs, eat some dinner leftovers, and then go to bed. I will watch over you until you wake up.

My eyes shoot up.

"But Steve, I don't…"

He holds his hand up in protest.

"Not a debate, Tony. It's nothing I haven't done before, back… back in the war. Sometimes, some of the missions we went on… we… we all had sleepless nights."

His voice goes distant halfway through, and he looks off, face haunted, eyes looking into his past. It takes a minute, but when his attention comes back to me his eyes hold hints of old ghosts.

"I know how to wake soldi…warriors in the midst of a nightmare, Tony. You won't hurt me."

I study him for a minute, hesitant- torn between my need to keep things private and not let them see how broken I am…and the desire to help the man in front of me. We all know how much the past still haunts him, and I could sense that this might be good for him.

And for vodka's sake, I just let the man swat me like a toddler, and had been over his knee for full-length sessions before. It's not like he didn't already know how screwed up I was. Things were getting too serious though, so I decided to lighten them up a bit.

"Fine, if you want to watch me sleep, whatever works for you."

A few months ago he would have blushed, but now he just rolls his eyes and claps me on the shoulder as he guides me upstairs.

I felt some, perhaps undue, pride in this, but there you have it.

And somehow, I felt a calming warmth spreading through me at the action, unrelated to the warmth in my backside.

_Tbc..._

**A/N**

_**Hey guys, I hoped you liked it. :) Up next is Clint, to be posted in a week!**_

_Posted Feb. 12, 2019_


	2. Chapter 2: Clint

**Chapter 2: Clint**

His hand hits his target unerringly again, like one of my arrows meeting its mark, and I groan. Why do I continually feel the need to test him like this? To test them all?

"I know you are a shield agent, Clint," says Cap from above me, his scolding voice uncompromising, "But you cannot just disappear on us without at least giving us an _idea_ of where you are going, _who_ you will be with, and _when_ you. Will. Be. **_Back_**!"

I hear the controlled frustration in his voice, and amply feel his displeasure as he continues to add to the burn in my posterior.

"But Cap, I- ow!"

"I don't _care_ that Tony would be able to find you if we really needed you, or that you kept an eye on the news for trouble. The **_point_** is that we need to know that you are _safe_, or at least have somebody _trustworthy_ watching your back!"

I wince at the reminder. After the events surrounding our formation, I could not get over the guilt of what I had done. Regardless of what Nat tried to tell me.

Neither could most of Shield.

There were several missions in the beginning that I had been sent on where I had been left to my own defenses, and backup had not arrived. I felt I deserved it and so didn't report it- I could handle most situations on my own. But after a particularly nasty occurrence Nat found me as I was cleaning myself up in one of the safehouses… and saw some of the marks. The whole of the Avengers knew about it within a half day, _Fury_ and _Steve_ within the hour, despite my protests.

And while some of the… _informal_ repercussions inflicted by my teammates upon said agents were gratifying, I did not relish their assistance (even if it did kick off the most epic prank war in history, one that is still going to this day).

Nor did I appreciate the first, and to-date most _intense,_ Steve Rogers butt-warming I received shortly after.

After the blistering lecture, and an even more scalding session with Cap's hand, we made some Rules as a team that have proven to be… difficult to adhere to. For everyone, in different ways and with different rules, but especially me.

I had been alone for so long before Coulson, that his….absence pushed me back into the bitter isolation from before I met him, and I chafed at the Rules, initially out of a need for independence, and guilt too, honestly.

_Coulson was __**dead**_ after all.

As time passed, however, with the same result following any and **every** testing on my part, my cognizant reasoning slowly shifted from independence to disbelief. The jury is still out on the subconscious reasons, which Cap calls family and I refuse to look at. Ever.

I just could not believe that they would go so far to make sure I was safe. Not a whole team. Not after what I had done to… to our handler. I was obviously not meant to be trusted.

But they still came.

Every. Single. Time.

After a particularly… _explosive_ occasion, in more than one way, and the repercussions of said event, I finally started to believe them.

Every now and then, however, I still felt the need to check, just to make sure.

It **always** ended up with me right here.

I groan again as another, particularly hard, swat came down… Ah. A refocusing-your-attention one.

"Are you listening to me, Clint?"

The slight tint of incredulous disbelief in his voice sparks my temper and I respond accordingly, despite the evident strain in my voice.

"Kinda hard not to, Cap, although the noise level from other parts of the conversation is blocking your words a little. Might want to rethink that."

Hearing the words that just came out of my mouth I give an internal groan, and let my head drop to the cushion of the couch in front of me. I just couldn't help myself, could I. I just _had_ to be snarky.

I feel Cap freeze for a minute, before he lets out a small, exasperated and slightly sad sigh, and shifts his leg so I am angled sharply over his knee. More specifically, to make my sit-spots more easily accessible to his palm.

I can't help it. At the first smack to that sensitive area I let out a yelp. Oh, I know he is using far from his full strength, and that he is being firm yet fair, but still… it hurts!

"All we want," he says levelly, between heavy swats and my accompanying responses, "is for you to keep yourself safe."

He continues for a minute in silence before asking firmly.

"Do you understand me, Clint?"

I responded the only way I could.

"Yes! Yes, yes, Cap, I get it!"

"Good," he grunts out, laying down a few more sincere swats before lowering his leg and returning his attention to his previous target. Not that it helps much.

"So," he continues conversationally with just a hint of sternness, "**Next** time you get a mission, _especially_ one that you feel is a little off base, what are you going to do?"

I groan again, the embarrassment of my actions and the pain starting to get to me. And does he really need me to spell it out for him? It's not like we haven't gone over it before!

"Clint?" He says warningly, his hand starting to increase the force and tempo of his swats once again.

Evidently he _does_ want me to say it out loud.

I curse my voice as it betrays me, the breathy response and slight crack showing just how much this is getting to me.

"I… I'll leave a note! Or… or come talk to you!"

"Exactly." Steve says while laying down some heavier swats, before returning to his normal force. "It doesn't have to be me, necessarily, but you need to tell someone. We will not loose you Clint, not if there is something we can do about it.

"You are far too important."

His voice, which turned gentle at the end, is what does me in.

I softly start to weep.

It's the same each time.

The pain I can handle, no problem. The disappointment is harder, but not impossible. What's one more person?

But the care? The fear they feel, the **value** they place on me?

_That's_ what gets me. Every. Time.

I'd never felt that before… Coulson, and that I still had that care after him, that I was _not_ alone… there was no possible response besides desperate, surrendered weeping.

Seeing that he has made his point, Steve starts to slow, and eventually stops his reproving hand. He sits in silence for a moment, and then slowly uses the same hand to gently rub my back, giving me all the time in the world to lay over his lap and cry.

How did I deserve people like him to fight beside me?

Time passes, and I slowly bring myself back under control.

Once the heaving in my back has slowed to hiccups he speaks, his hand still rubbing gently.

"We only ask that you do what you can to keep yourself safe, Clint." he says softly. "And we will continue to guarantee that level of safety for as long as we need to."

Hearing those words makes me choke on a newly emerging sob, but Cap doesn't mind, just keeps rubbing as the tears start to flow again.

"We will be there, Clint, every single time."

_Tbc..._

**A/N:**

**Wow, what a positive response to my drabble challenge! I hope to have the first one posted by Wednesday evening. :) Thank you all for your ideas! **

**Also, here is chapter two! Next up will be Bruce, to be posted next Monday. Also, any suggestions on a theme for Natasha? I have a couple of ideas, but I wanted to know what you think. She wouldn't be the one to do something impulsive like Tony, she has way too much control for that. I'm trying to find something that will match her personality. **

**Anyway, see you all soon!**

Published Feb. 2019


	3. Chapter 3: Bruce

**Chapter 3: Bruce**

For some reason, the Other Guy trusted Steve. I knew this- from firsthand knowledge, not what my team had tried to convince me- because regardless of how many times **_this_** happened, he never came out.

Figures.

The one high-stress situation the Other Guy never shows up for is this.

When I feel the super-enhanced hand strike again I try to suppress my wince and low hiss, and I _almost _wished that he would make an appearance.

Almost.

"We've been here before, Bruce."

The calm voice, tinged with disappointment, of the man above me draws me back to the present, not that I ever left, and I once again mentally berate myself as to why I thought I would ever be able to get away with my illicit experimenting.

His hand keeps coming down in a steady rhythm, and I squirm as it grows increasingly uncomfortable.

His voice softens slightly, and I can hear the fear in it.

"You are too important to risk yourself like that."

This most recent concoction had seemed promising, more so than many others I had tried over the years.

I had actually thought it just might work this time.

"I know you want to find a cure, but you _know_ not to do it without checking it out with us first!"

A few harder swats, and I let out a groan.

If I really thought it would work, then why didn't I run it by at least Tony?! It was a Rule that we don't self- experiment without notifying someone else and supervision.

His voice cracks slightly as he speaks his next sentence, and I can tell he is on the verge of tears himself.

"Why, Bruce? Why didn't you trust us?"

He is begging now. I got the Steve Rogers, _Captain America_, to beg.

Questioning why I didn't trust him enough.

I let out my first sob, as I struggle to come up with a response.

"I… I don't know!"

He pulls me closer to himself, more securely anchoring me, and I feel a flush of warmth at the safety in the action. He was not going to let me go. His voice transforms, becoming unyielding, determined.

"Not good enough, Bruce. I want to know why."

Captain America is on a mission and would not be dissuaded.

So _why_ didn't I?

The tears slowly start to leak out as I think, my thoughts becoming confused and swirling as he continues his pattern, steadily, keeping me anchored as I try to come up with why I _didn't just_ **_tell_** _them_.

Suddenly, it hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can't help but let out a louder sob as I collapse over his lap, going limp and crying hard.

His next few swats are lighter, compassionate, letting me know that he is here, before they resume their previous intensity. I am profoundly grateful at how well he can read me. I need the consistency if I am ever going to admit what I had just come to realize.

"It's alright, Bruce. I know you figured it out. You can tell me."

His voice is calm, although I can hear the underlying concern, but I know, I know I can trust him with this. He can take it.

He keeps up that pace for a few moments while I try to gather myself.

"I…I…" I stumble, trying to speak through my tears, unsettled by this revelation.

"It's ok. Go on." He softly rubs my back while still keeping up his swats, now lighter, with more time in between. I let out another sob.

"I do trust you. I do! I just…"

"Go on."

His voice is kind, but stern, giving me the push I need to wail out my response.

"I wanted to show you that I was worthy of it, that I was better than what you see of me!"

My confession draining the last shreds of my defiance I collapse, going limp once again. I let out an embarrassed moan, and then resume sobbing, hiding my face in my hands.

He immediately stops and starts rubbing my back, saying gentle words of comfort as I ride out my shame and embarrassment. Shame I never succeeded in showing them how I could be so much more than what they saw of me, and embarrassed that I wanted to hide my trials so they won't see my failures, because I want them to be **_proud_** of me.

Steve doesn't seem to care, though, and I use that as an anchor.

Once I calm down enough that I am just sniffling, he stops his gentle litany, as if trying to come up with the best words, now that I can actually hear him.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I feel a flash of fear that he will end up rejecting me.

There is a long pause as the silence grows, along with my anxiety.

"Bruce, we already know you are enough."

I freeze. Did he just say…?

"You are enough just being who you are, Hulk or not. You are brilliant, and kind, and gentle, and care about others. Hulk protects us, and we see him as our friend. He has saved our lives on more than one occasion, and so have you. You keep us level, and balance out some of the more hot-headed ones like Thor and Tony. You are our voice of reason in many cases. You, both of you, are so important to us as a team. That is why we care so much when you do these things that might hurt you, especially without telling us."

He gently helps me off his lap and stands while guiding me to my feet, giving me a friendly smile full of affection. I know without a doubt that he is being honest.

"If you want to change, then that is your choice, Bruce, and we will stand by you. But know this."

He takes me and gently pulls me into a hug, and whispers the last few words into my ears.

"You never need to change for us to be proud of you, and honored to fight by your side."

_Tbc..._

**A/N**

**Hey everyone! I know this is a little early, but I had it done, and I might not have time tomorrow, so I decided to go ahead and post it. I also know this was a little bit different, but I thought it fit the characters. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. :) Next up is Thor, and on Friday I hope to post the next chapter of the drabble. Thank you to those of you who let me know about the formatting issue; I got it fixed. Please review! It gives me energy to keep writing. :) Have a good week you all!**

_Posted Feb. 3, 2019_


	4. Chapter 4: Thor

**Chapter 4: Thor**

In our last strategy meeting, Clint had snarked at me that for all I had learned to serve my people with my life, I still did not know how to follow orders.

Knowing this was pure nonsense, I blustered at him about the might of Asgard warriors, and how we are taught how to take orders from the time we held our first practice blade.

Today proved him right though.

_Thor. This building has a lot of valuable information inside of it- __**do**__**not **__use your lightning. _

I hadn't understood why at the time, but I nodded in agreement.

Once again our valiant Captain's hand descends upon my increasingly sore posterior.

If only I had _listened_…

Times like this I just want to bang my head against the wall. It seems like no matter how much I learned in Midgard, I always revert back to arrogance and pride, thinking that I know better with my age and experience, forgetting my complete lack of understanding of the rules of Midgard.

While as a Prince, leader, and future king, my orders are to be obeyed…but I am none of those things here.

A real king can listen to those who know better than them.

The next sharp strike to my posterior makes me wince; not only for the pain, which is indeed immense and building, but also for the guilt harbored within. But I am not yet ready to accept his chastisement… nor his forgiveness.

I can only imagine the look on my family's face- my father would be expressionless, nothing different there; my mother would look at me, eyes heavy with disappointment.

My _brother_ would scoff.

While I may be Crown Prince in Asgard, on Earth I am a guest, a protector, yes, but also a guest. These people were different than my own, and worth no less than any on Asgard.

I am grateful I have a team leader such as the Captain, a human like the other Midgardians who can hold me accountable to their rules and customs, and keep me from acting like an arrogant fool, a proud deity I so often forget I am not.

It had not always been this way, however.

The first time this had been proposed, I had scoffed.

Yes, perhaps I may have used too much strength and destroyed the building, but the enemy was taken down much more quickly than the proposed plan, which could actually prevent civilian casualties from an extended fight. To my mind, Midgard should have stronger buildings; such destruction occurred far less often on Asgard than here.

The expressions on my teammates' faces before they turned to leave gave me the first twinge of unease, and I resisted calling for my hammer when left alone to face the Captain, who was considering me with a level gaze.

A gaze that brought on a second twinge of unease.

Despite his explanation, I refused to submit to such childish Midgardian consequences; I was unused to having any consequences at all, especially for something as trivial as knocking down a building during a battle!

The Captain accepted my choice, but the others were shocked when they saw me emerge unpunished.

Their stares were unnerving me, so I went to my room to get my hammer (Lady Pepper had expressed _vehemently_ that unless in an emergency, I was not to call my hammer to myself while within the tower), more than ready to assault some of the new, reinforced gym equipment… and I _couldn't pick up my hammer_.

In the end, I acknowledged that whatever power controlled my hammer thought the proposed discipline necessary, and I accepted the censure with churlish flippancy, knowing that there was no way such a petty punishment would truly affect me. The Captain was _mortal_, after all, and I had regained my powers.

I was wrong.

And now, I knew what to expect. This would end with tears.

Not from pain- although the Captain's strength was indeed formidable! - but the knowledge that this is _needed_, that I justly **deserve** to be reminded of my wrongs, always draws true repentance from me. True tears.

I am never released until I acknowledge my errors and accept my actions. But there is more than that- the Captain also insists I release my guilt.

The gentle way the Captain is able to move me through the process of denial, acceptance of responsibility, and then finally release of guilt was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. This was a childish punishment, and I could see why- when done this way, it provided the unspoken message that we are cared for and supported, not left alone to deal with the world.

I acted like a child, and in the end I felt like a child- I felt disciplined, with a lesson well- learned, but safe- far safer than I ever had in my father's court.

His hand slows slightly, as if he knows somehow that I am finally ready to listen to him.

"You didn't listen to our warnings, Thor."

It isn't a question. I unable to suppress the wince that springs up unbidden; I cannot deny the claim. And although stated plainly, I can hear, now that I am finally listening, the small sting of hurt that lies hidden beneath the tone.

"I… I know!" I am extremely frustrated, and beat my head against the side of the chair. Why do I keep doing this?! Several sharp swats stop my frustrated banging.

"Did it not make sense to you?"

"No, it did, I just… ahh!" My agitated twisting is repelled again by several harder swats, which has me blushing as they remind me to keep my temper and hold still.

I more than deserve this.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as the pain in my posterior continues to grow.

"You just… what?"

I resists to urge to squirm again, uncomfortable with what I am being asked to acknowledge, but that is the whole point, is it not?

I twist uncomfortably for another moment, before I finally slump, defeated, knowing what I have to admit. It comes out quietly, resigned and regretful, subdued.

"I thought I could handle it."

"Exactly." This is said sharply, like the crack of a whip, accompanied by several hard strikes rivaling any hitherto bestowed.

"I know you are used to fighting elsewhere, Thor, but this is Earth. We have different limitations, different things we have to consider."

Steve's hand continues to land unerringly, and I can do naught but put my head down in shame, listening to and accepting the accurate and just censure.

"We are exceedingly grateful for your help and company, but when you ignore our advice and rush in, you can cause more harm than you mean to because you don't _know_ of these limitations."

While the captains voice stays level and fair, I can hear the underlying frustration. I wince, but stays silent, knowing I deserve any rebuke the Captain issues.

"Buildings can fall. People can get hurt. Innocents. Civilians. Those who never asked for a fight, and only want to live in peace."

The Captain is quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in as his hand reinforces his message.

Guilt settles into my stomach as I think of how much worse it could have been.

"You thought you knew more than us. You thought your experience outweighed our warnings and caution.

"This has happened before, Thor. People are hurt by this… _you_ could be injured by this."

He is silent for a moment, letting me process that, and I desperately try to push back the tears that are forcing their way out.

His next sentence is spoken softly, to the point where I need to focus to hear it.

"The king you were raised to be is better than your actions today, Thor. _You_ are better than them."

The disappointment with which he speaks has a far different effect than making me feel like a failure, rejected. It makes me feel guilty, like I let him, and myself down.

I have the same response I always do at this point- his finally hand stops as I burst into the most healing of tears.

_Tbc..._

**A/N:**

_Here you go everyone! I am SO SORRY this took so long to post; on top of starting a new job, it just kept dividing into more side stories so the original one I had planned become about 4 different stories, so keep an eventual eye out for those. I know it's quick, I finally decided to just post what I had pieced together instead of continuing to edit, but I hope it still follows at least a little. _

_Next up will be Natasha, which might be awhile, though hopefully not as long. I am also starting school up again, so life is going to get busy. Also, any thoughts on who should deal with Steve? I was thinking Coulson, but I could see it more going the other way with his hero worship... maybe Bucky? Or Fury? Let me know if you have an opinion..._

_Thank you __**SO MUCH**__ to all who reviewed, your encouragement and desire to see more kept me going. Otherwise, I would never finish anything, and just write whatever struck me at any given time. You guys are all amazing, please keep commenting. :)_

_Alright, well I will see you next time!_


	5. Chapter 5: Natasha

**Chapter 5: Natasha**

I rarely found myself in this position.

In fact, the first time it happened, I had been shocked that Steve even had the courage, given how awkward he was around females. It had only happened once or twice in total, and I deserved it each time.

Just like I deserve it now.

The team had agreed upon some Rules after I found Clint with _multiple_ unreported injuries several weeks after the Battle of New York. He is like my brother; I took the best revenge I could by telling Steve.

Some Rules were common sense… at least for most people; although our team could be considered anything but 'most people'. Others were geared more towards specific teammates, although we knew we were all held accountable for them.

Regardless, I had been conditioned to suppress emotion. I was cold, calculating. It was rare for me to make a mistake to the point I needed to be held responsible like this, because such mistakes only happened from _emotions_. Not that I didn't feel emotions, I just didn't allow them to control me. Usually. Even if there were times I wanted them to.

There were a few times though, increasingly common, that I just didn't _care_.

Coulson and Clint had taught me to be part of a family, but the Avengers taught me to care like one.

And even though I might lose them as we continue to grow, I would be darned if I let any of them get hurt.

Although, perhaps… the thoroughness of Steve's falling hand meant that I wouldn't actually lose them.

"I don't know what caused you to go off on your own like that, Natasha," Steve's voice finally spoke, "but going solo on unsanctioned missions will never be accepted."

I had to focus to resist squirming. I knew that, I really did- how often had I berated Clint for doing the same thing? But if our team is changing…

"We are a _team_, Natasha. That means we stick together. We work _together_ to keep **everyone** safe."

His few emphasized swats made me let out a grunt, and my mind went to the series of events that led me here.

There had been word circling of a new threat against Bruce. After what happened on the Helicarrier I felt like I owed him, despite the fact that we had been friends for a while now. He was skittish enough; I _needed_ him to feel safe with them.

I had heard of it through some of my underground contacts, and with Coulson dead I didn't trust SHIELD to have Bruce's best interests at heart.

My next thought was to enlist the help of my long-time partner, but he was on a "mission"- I had finally succeeded in forcing him to take some time off to be with his family. He had been struggling to reconnect with them for months, his guilt from the attack preventing him from getting close to them.

Some jerk had just decided to callously let Steve know that Peggy was still alive- although with Dementia, and he was reeling with the news and struggling to cope with his love being alive, but so sick.

Thor was still off world, and Tony was back in Malibu with Pepper for a month. And I obviously couldn't bring Bruce with me.

So I went alone.

Everyone had some form of family, and I didn't want to take them away from that.

His hand continues to fall, and my attention is drawn back to the present as he continues his lecture.

"So, are you ready to tell me why we had to come after you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking of how my grand scheme had turned out.

I am incredibly skilled, unrivaled in many ways, but even I get into some tough situations. Like the one I found myself in just a few hours ago.

I had been sneaking through the vents, trying to gather what data I could while also looking for the tech room, to download even more. I was passing by an meeting room when I heard the order to kill some hostages- people from Bruce's past on the run, in order to draw him out. I raced to the holding area and tried to free the captives, but was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of combatants, especially while also trying to protect the hostages.

Just when we were about to be executed, Iron Man arrived, with Steve in the quinjet right on his heels.

Needless to say, the situation was resolved fairly quickly, leaving me to face an irate Steve.

"I know you know better; you have scolded Clint multiple times for this same thing in the past, so why did you do it Natasha?"

I growl, and let out a little kick, the pain that I refused to fight against continuing to build and making me testy.

"Well? You know I'm not letting you up until you tell me." He is silent for a moment, and then his voice gentles. He pauses, and rests his hand on my back. "Please Nat. Why… why didn't you let us help you?"

His kindness broke my resolve where his indomitable hand couldn't, and I bit out,

"The rest of you were busy! You have your own family problems to deal with, I didn't want to get in the way!"

Cap froze for a moment, before he calmly picked up his knee and started laying heavy, determined swats to my sit spots, right where it would hurt most when I sat down. His voice was like steel, but not based on anger.

"_You_ are our family, Natasha. No matter **what** is going on in our lives, we would never want you to hide your own problems from us. In fact, when it involves danger to yourself, or another member of our family, we will not allow you to hide it from us."

His choice of target, as well as his words, were making me squirm vigorously, as if trying to escape the truth he was imprinting upon me. I wasn't quite ready to accept it though… there had been too much change, and I didn't want to lose my team, my family, when it wasn't my choice.

He merely pulls me closer to him, anchoring me over his lap, and continues.

"We will always come for you, Natasha. We cannot handle these things alone, and every time you try to we will come find you, stop you, and then deal with the problem together. As a family."

His words finally connected, and I relaxed, going limp over his lap. I start to weep, silently, releasing all of my fear and pent up emotion. Cap slows to a stop, and then starts to silently rub my back, soothingly, letting me take all the time I need to process.

As I lay there, releasing my fears through tears I almost never let show, I could admit to myself that this was a test. One they passed, but a test nonetheless.

I have no idea how Steve knew I was gone, or how Tony tracked me, or how they knew not to bring Bruce. But they did. And I was safe, and knew that my team- my family- would always come for me.

_Tbc..._

**A/N**

**Phew, this one was really hard! I'm not totally happy with it, but I wanted to get it out to you all regardless. So please be kind, it was really difficult. I might go back and edit it a bit, but we'll see. I tried to keep her in character, don't know how well I ****succeeded**** though. Thank you to all of you who suggested ideas for her! **

**Now that she is done, up next is Steve! I have a couple of ideas for him, connected into the larger universe this story is a part of, but keep your eyes peeled! Blessings!**


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